


Just Because You Didn't See Them Doesn't Mean They're Not There

by callervera



Series: Alpha Beta Chi AU [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fraternity, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-15 23:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2246799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callervera/pseuds/callervera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At Marius Pontmercy's mountain cabin over the Thanksgiving holiday, Enjolras looks at the stars, Grantaire looks at Enjolras, neither of them talk about the things they should.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Because You Didn't See Them Doesn't Mean They're Not There

**Author's Note:**

> This series takes place in the Liberte, Egalite, Fraternity/Alpha Beta Chi 'verse, but it hasn't happened in that story yet. I had to have a place to drop some of these little things I've been working on. Sorry it is out of order. Hope no one hates me.
> 
> If you haven't read [LEF.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1723619), you might want to. It would make me happy.
> 
> I'm on [tumblr.](http://icallervera.tumblr.com/)  
> Come say hi.

Thanksgiving Weekend

"Hard to believe the Milky Way is an actual thing, right?"  
  
Grantaire's voice startles Enjolras out of his star-gazing reverie and he snaps his head forward, causing the snow that's accumulated on his golden curls to tumble onto his nose. It is quite a lot of snow. Enjolras must've been staring, awestruck, at the night sky for longer than he'd thought.  
  
Enjolras is normally very hard to sneak up on, but he was lost in the starry night and his own thoughts. Plus, the thick blanket of snow that covers the deck effectively muffled Grantaire's footsteps. Not that Grantaire normally walks loudly. He's surprising graceful when he moves, unlike Enjolras, whose preferred method of motion is stomping, his forceful footsteps demanding attention whenever he enters a room.  
  
Now that he's has come closer, Enjolras can hear Grantaire's steps crunch in the thick, wet whiteness as he makes his way across the enormous wooden deck towards him, his footsteps leaving a trail back to the house.  
  
When Marius had invited them up to spend the Thanksgiving holiday at his grandfather's place in the mountains, they'd expected a cabin in the woods or maybe condo in a ski resort.  It's clear now that Marius was just being was being modest when he'd told them that his family had a "pretty nice cabin." The "cabin" is more like a slope side mansion with ten bedrooms, a wine cellar, a hot tub, and an expansive deck that has breath-taking view of the Rocky Mountains.  
  
There is pine picnic table at the very end of the deck that is isolated and perfect for star-gazing and that is where Enjolras sits, feeling like he is perched at the edge of the world. A few faint lights are scattered down the hillside below--other ridiculously expensive ski lodges, no doubt--but for the most part, the view is only of the rich, wooded darkness of the ski hill and the sparkling black sky.  
  
Enjolras has never seen so many stars.  
  
Grantaire shuffles the last few snowy steps to join him on the wooden bench. Enjolras thinks that he should've heard him coming sooner, but the thick blanket of snow is doing an effective job of muffling sound. The only sounds that Enjolras had been able to hear for the last twenty minutes or so had been his own breath and the sound of snowflakes joining the piles of snow that thickly covered everything-the wooden deck, the railing, the roof the trees. The whole world is white.  
  
Enjolras hadn't thought it possible to hear snow falling, but tonight he thinks he can. The flakes are so heavy, he swears that he can hear the smallest of thuds when they join their brothers in a snowy pile.  
  
Now there is a new sound added to the winter soundscape. Grantaire's rapidly nearing footsteps and the soft huff of his breath. And this new addition is okay with Enjolras. It is definitely okay.  
  
"How'd you escape Courf?" Enjolras asks.  
  
"Eh, I snuck out while he and Feuilly were battling over Western Europe," Grantaire answers. "I'd already lost all my armies. This may surprise you, Apollo, but I'm terrible at world domination." A pause. "We missed you in there."

  
Grantaire gestures back toward the house, where their friends can be seen moving around in the glowing yellow windows. They are laughing and playfully arguing as they play Risk. It's nice to watch then from out here, like a television show with the sound turned off.  
  
Courfeyrac and Combeferre have their backs to the window, Combeferre's head resting on his boyfriend's shoulder. He gets jostled out of place every so often, when Courfeyrac jumps up to shout about something in the game. But they always settle and fold back into each other.  
  
Pontmercy sits on the sofa, bundled up in a gigantic navy Nordic print sweater that threatens to engulf him. His eyes are locked on the blonde girl curled up next to him and he looks like he might die of happiness. Cosette's hand is resting on his knee and his eyes can't stop glancing down at it, as if he can't believe it is actually there. Enjolras envies him this.  
  
Everyone else is seated outside the frame of the windows, occasionally popping into the picture. Joly crossed to the kitchen and returned with three beers in hand, bound for Bossuet and Musichetta. Eponine stalked past once or twice, pointedly not looking at Marius and Cosette. For a while, Feuilly and Bahorel had tumbled in and out of view in what appeared to be a friendly wrestling match until Jehan had finally dashed after them. Presumably, peace was made because a Enjolras saw no further wrestling.  
  
His friends were an entertaining group. Especially with the volume off.  
  
Grantaire had been in there with them for a little while. Enjolras had seen his black curls peeking into the corner of the frame, sometimes his face would lean into view as he took his turn at the game.  But then he'd disappeared and Enjolras wondered where he'd gone.  
  
Now he knew.  
  
Grantaire shuffles the last few snowy steps to join Enjolras on the wooden bench, his deeply sunken tracks creating a parallel twin to Enjolras' own. There were other footprints earlier--Courfeyrac and the others had been playing around out here all day while Enjolras and Grantaire had still been driving up--but the snow is falling hard and fast and it has quickly erased all trace of their friends. It's like Enjolras and Grantaire are alone at the end of the world.  
  
"It's really peaceful out here. I'm enjoying being alone out here with the stars," he says and then notices Grantaire's awkward look. "No! Shit, sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I'm glad for the company. Sit. Please."    
  
Enjolras emphasizes his point by using his red-mittened hands to brush off the bench beside him to clear a place for Grantaire. He wonders for a moment if he's made the space too close. Or maybe it wasn't close enough. Enjolras isn't sure.  
  
After last night, there are a lot of things he isn't sure of right now.  
  
He was positive that he'd absolutely ruined everything last night after Grantaire had repeatedly pushed away Enjolras' intoxicated attempts to kiss him. There was absolutely no question that Enjolras had been firmly rejected.  
  
But then they'd spent the night tangled up in each other in Enjolras' bed. Sure, they were trying to stay warm in the snowed-in frat house with a busted heater but still.  
  
And Enjolas didn't think he was mistaken in what he felt when he awoke and Grantaire was still wrapped around him, chest firmly pressed against Enjolras' back, nose buried in his curls, hips snug against his arse. It had seemed to Enjolras that Grantaire's interest had been quite apparent.  
  
But Grantaire is a guy. And Enjolras is fully aware that that is how guys wake up some mornings.  
  
This is all very confusing.  
  
They hadn't talked about it on the drive up. They couldn't have talked about it because Enjolras told that lie. That stupid, stupid lie that had effectively erased the whole night.  
  
 _I don't remember anything,_ he'd said. _I was really high_ , he'd said.  
  
Idiot.  
  
But it had seemed like such a good idea at the time, one that would wash away the guilt of having thrown himself at his friend and being blatantly turned down. Repeatedly.  
  
But Grantaire had said he didn't remember the night either, that he'd been too drunk to remember.  
  
It should be easy now. The slate should be clean. But it isn't. It's tearing Enjolras up inside.  
  
Grantaire sits on the bench beside him. Their legs don't touch. Okay, that answers that question. Good to know.  
  
And then Grantaire adjusts his position and they do, their legs do touch.  
  
Oh.  
  
Grantaire's green eyes, wide and full of questions, are fixed on Enjolras' face.  
  
Enjolras says nothing. He Looks back at the sky, admiring the stars and enjoying the cold, firm press of Grantaire's leg against his.  
  
"It's something up here, huh?" Grantaire asks. He still does not move away.  
  
Enjolras has always been a city boy and his experience with stars had been a passing acquaintance with whichever twinkling dots had the strength and temerity to break through the light pollution. But this. This cold, clear mountain sky is unlike anything Enjolras has ever seen. The Milky Way stands out in the middle of the scattered diamond stars, a thick white swath across the sky.  
  
"It looks like somebody actually dipped a paint brush in white paint and just swiped it up there, doesn't it?" Grantaire puts words to Enjolras' thoughts. "The Big Dipper is really bright tonight. Can you see it?"  
  
"I don't know any of the constellations," Enjolras says finally, keeping his eyes on the heavens. He isn't sure, but he thinks he can feel the warmth of Grantaire's breath ghosting across his cheek. They are so close right now. Why are they so close? Why aren't they closer?  
  
"I know some of them," Grantaire's voice is low and extremely close to Enjolras' ear. Enjolras is sure that if he moves his face the slightest but to the right, his nose will bump right into Grantaire's.  
  
Enjolras does not move.  
  
If his face gets that close to Grantaire's face, Enjolras is going to try to kiss him again. He won't be able to stop himself. And Enjolras cannot possibly handle the rejection again. So he keeps his face forward and up. Safe.  
  
"Show me," Enjolras says, voice tight. He hopes Grantaire can't hear how shallow his breathing had become.  
  
"Look," Grantaire points an ungloved hand up to the sky, finger gesturing vaguely in the direction of the brightest white dot. His fingers are white and his knuckles red. He must be freezing without gloves.  
  
"You must be freezing without gloves," Enjolras helpfully states the obvious.  
  
"I lost 'em," Grantaire replies.  
  
"Well, that was dumb," Enjolras says and, before he realizes what he is doing, he's reached up wrapped his mitten-covered hand around Grantaire's bare fingers.  
  
"Problem solved," Grantaire says and Enjolras can almost hear his crooked grin. He still doesn't dare look at him. Grantaire continues, "Why do I need gloves when I've got you, E? You seem to be exceptionally good at keeping me warm."  
  
Enjolras turns red. He is desperately hoping that Grantaire is searching the sky for constellations, not looking at him. Somehow, Enjolras doubts it.  
  
"Thank you," Grantaire says softly in his ear, "for letting me crash in your room last night. I would've frozen my ass off if I'd been in my room alone."  
  
Enjolras just shrugs. "It was no big deal."  
  
It was a huge deal. They'd spent the night together, they'd woken up together, Enjolras has tried to kiss him (although he wasn't supposed to remember that part). It was a huge deal and everything feels different, unexpected, weird, but nice. Like they're closer than they were. Enjolras won't try to kiss Grantaire again, he'd already put that out there. But if Grantaire tried to kiss him...he would definitely kiss him back. Hard.  
  
Grantaire does not kiss Enjolras. He simply lowers his hand until it rests on Enjolras' leg, still covered in Enjolras' hand. They rest there for a moment, and then Enjolras reaches over and grabs Grantaire's other hand and pulls them into his lap, wrapping his warm, mittened hands firmly around both of Grantaire's.  
  
Grantaire's head drops onto Enjolras' shoulder, the frosting of snow on his green beanie cold against Enjolras' cheek. Their legs press together harder, from hip to knee and they both sit there silently for a moment, taking in the cold, glittering night sky.  
  
Grantaire begins to tell Enjolras about the different constellations. He does not point, because that would mean taking his hands away from Enjolras'.  
  
They are close enough.  
  
For now.

**Author's Note:**

> "They did not speak, they did not bow, they were not acquainted; they saw each other; and, like the stars in the sky separated by millions of leagues, they lived by gazing upon each other.” Victor Hugo
> 
> (Yeah, this is about Marius and Cosette. But I do not care.)


End file.
